


Trades

by RobberBaroness



Category: Den lille Havfrue | The Little Mermaid - Hans Christian Andersen
Genre: Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10942848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/pseuds/RobberBaroness
Summary: A deep sea diver finds the cave of the Sea Witch.





	Trades

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



The contents of that cave could make me rich or widely known if they were believed.  As it is, I imagine the most I could hope for is the attention of a few cryptozoology or conspiracy theory websites, to be passed over when I never provide anything new to interest them.  Just as well, really.  I don’t want to publish my findings; I want all of this to be my secret, shared only with those closest to me.

I am selfish in my findings.  Perhaps it’s appropriate- whoever owned that cave was selfish as well.

Seeing strange things while diving is not unusual; typically, such sights can be attributed to hallucinations caused by lack of oxygen.  Sometimes what I’ve found has been normal but odd- the decaying corpses of sea life which look like hideous monsters when reduced to bones and sinews.  However, the cave of the Sea Witch (a silly name, I know, but I don’t know what else to call it) is real.  I know it in my bones.  That cliche never meant much to me before, but now I feel the humming sensation imparted by the cave, a strange vibration that rocks me from head to toe.  There are consequences to setting foot in certain places, especially places never meant for human feet.

It is the most beautiful cave I have ever seen.  That doesn’t sound like very much when I say aloud, but I have seen many things in my years of diving.  There are colors beneath the sea that do not exist anywhere else, beautiful shades of purple and blue and iridescent green that cut through the darkness of deep waters.  All these colors are natural, perceptible by the human eye.

There are, however, sea creatures which can see many more colors than the human eye is built for.  When I entered the cave of the Sea Witch, I believe I saw those colors.

I call her- the person who lives in this place- a witch, though it looked more like a laboratory than anything you would find in a stereotypical witch’s lair.  I don’t even know for sure if the person or creature who dwells in that cave is a she.  Maybe I’ve just been brainwashed by all the stories I read as a child to think that any sinister magic must belong to a woman.

She feels like a she, though, and she feels like a witch.  And I knew as soon as I saw the coral shelves with their neat little jars and precise scrawlings, I knew what I was seeing was magic.

The language was not one I recognized, but somehow the characters made perfect sense the moment I saw them.  (How did the ink remain clear underwater, I wonder now looking back on it?  Every time I think about the cave I come up with more questions.)  The jars were labeled, like a housewife or a hipster labels their jars of pickles or jam.   _ One vision.  One dream.  One voice. _

I picked up the bottles in turn, and each one struck through me in a different manner.  The voice in particular made me want to cry, though if you asked me why I couldn’t say.  It was beautiful but somehow unutterably sad, and as I listened to its lilting song I thought, with no prompting, ‘I am listening to a dead woman.’

I hope I was wrong.  I fear I was not.

The strangest thing, however, was the second voice.  It was not beautiful or melodic, but simple and forthright.  If the first voice I heard was a song, the second was a private thought.

_ “A voice for a few limbs is a fair trade.  I hope the poor foolish thing uses them well.” _

I dropped the jar in surprise upon hearing that, but thankfully it floated in the waves and I was able to place it back on the shelves, unbroken.  I would have hated to be the one who ruined such a dreadful trade.

Another jar held something more easily identifiable- a strand of beautiful golden hair.  I touched this one gently, and this time there was only the second voice, a bit wistful (or perhaps frustrated.)

_ “One trade to undo another.  What do these girls think I am, an answer to everything?  I told them their poor silly sister will never see it all through, but if they don’t listen, it’s their own trade to throw away.” _

Every jar held similar commentary.  It is enrapturing to hear the thoughts of another, and it wasn’t long before I lost my sense of all time.  I told you before that what I saw did not feel like a hallucination, but what happened next is the only part I am unsure of.

I remember- or I think I remember- the touch of hands upon my shoulders.  I remember a soft falling sensation, as if I were going to sleep in a down comforter.  I remember waking up on my boat, and I remember the blinding sorrow of having been pulled away from something wonderful.

She threw me out because she thought I was nothing but a tourist.  She is wrong.  My dreams are always of the sea, and now they are of her cave, and every morning waking feels like a greater disappointment.   Diving has never been a hobby for me, not really.  It’s been a journey to a world more strange and lovely than the world above.  It isn’t a hobby if it’s everything to you.  Whatever I have in my so-called real life is nothing to what I have seen below the waves.

I’m going down there tomorrow, and I leave this in case I don’t come back.  If I don’t come back, it will be because I chose not to.  The Sea Witch is fair, if harsh, and I believe that if I go to her with an honest bargain she will not turn me away.

If you must remember me, think of me living beneath my beloved waters, my legs merged into a tail, voiceless but happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an idiot and missed the deadline- this should have been your main gift! I'm so sorry, and hope you enjoyed the story anyway.


End file.
